


Addiction

by Hallospaceboyy



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:00:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23495695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hallospaceboyy/pseuds/Hallospaceboyy
Summary: Reader is distracted, and when Missy confronts her, she makes a confession. (I suck at summaries soz)
Relationships: Missy (Doctor Who) & Reader, Missy (Doctor Who)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 90





	Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> First Missy fic! Don't really know where this came from, I'm just feeling the love for Missy today and decided to try and write something. Hope you enjoy x

You had never known somebody so utterly catastrophic – someone so drawn to pandemonium and destruction, and so willing to be the first to jump head on into it, even cause it. Actually, most of the time, she did cause it. Missy, your Missy, was addictive – every smirk she sent your way, every touch, had you feeling as though you were burning up, and you welcomed that, knew that you would let her turn you to ash. You couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t draw yourself away from her even if you wanted to. But you didn’t want to – never wanted to be without your time lady, knew that even with complete chaos surrounding you, you would be safe. You would always be safe with her. Missy showed a fierce protectiveness for her human, had saved you many times – by the skin of her teeth, but she still saved you.

It had been a little over a year since you had let a mad woman whisk you away, and your thoughts of strange, unexplainable devotion for her were interrupted by the time lady herself, when you felt the sudden weight of her on your lap. Missy smirked and wrapped her slender arms around your neck, searching your eyes with a questioning look. 

“What are you thinking about, kitten? There's me, garbling away, and you weren’t even listening!”

You felt a blush colour your cheeks, and sent her an apologetic look, planting a soft kiss to her cheek that almost had the woman purring. “Sorry, Miss. I was just a little distracted,”

“Ah, the human brain, so easily led astray! Simple, simple minds,” Missy chuckled as you shot her an irritated look, and slapped the side of her thigh. 

“Watch it, toots. I might decide to abstain if you continue to be so rude,” You continued to feign annoyance, knowing the woman could see right through you, always could.

“No you won’t, you couldn’t resist this body even if you wanted to, poppet,” Her eyes shone with a playfulness that was so often present, and she winked when you laughed aloud, shaking your head at her.

“Perhaps you’re right,”

“I always am, dear,” She grinned and suddenly pressed a hard kiss to your lips, messy and needy, just as the Mistress was herself. The woman always craved your attention, was willing to perform whatever theatrics necessary to gain it – and you loved her for that, for making you feel needed. You were sure at first that she would grow bored of you at the drop of a hat, dump you back on Earth one day, and leave you reeling, empty, and burning with a desire for her presence for the rest of your days. But despite your fears, Missy had not grown bored, in fact, quite the opposite. She had become fond of your company, revelled in the way you looked at her with both desire and admiration. 

She bit down on your lower lip, hard enough to draw blood, and you let out a strangled cry, and she smirked against you. Missy was so often hard, and bruising, but you didn’t mind, enjoyed it even, her insatiable lust, her need to devour you, to leave her mark on you. Her possessiveness left a fire burning in your lower abdomen, and you didn’t think you would ever get used to it- the excitement a mere touch from her could evoke in you. 

“Say something nice,” She whispered, as she pulled away slightly, face only inches from yours.

“I love you,” You whispered in return, voice small and uncertain, and uncertainty showed in Missy’s own eyes, then; as if she was shocked by your admission, and you found yourself dumbfounded that someone so inexplicably clever could be so stupid as to not see it. This woman saw everything, knew everything, but love – love was so foreign to her she couldn’t see it if it was dancing around naked in front of her playing a trombone. You smirked at the thought, amused by her confusion despite an anxiety growing in you that you had just said the wrong thing. Missy was confident, a force to be reckoned with, but when it came to feelings she was skittish, showed her affection in small ways, but was never entirely open – Missy was just about the opposite to an open book, so good at masking her feelings with her eccentrics and cocky humour.

“Missy?” You were starting to panic now, and Missy, realising this, stroked your cheek and smiled, a gentle smile that was so rare for her.

“You don’t mean that,” She stated, voice soft, sad. The swagger she had showed only minutes ago now deflated, and you expected her to get up, take her warmth from you, but she still clung – perched on your lap and holding you tight.

“You know, for someone so smart, you really are stupid sometimes,” You laughed, and Missy's eyes widened in shock, and then she was laughing with you. “Miss, you may be just slightly, a little bit stark raving bonkers, but I do love you. You don’t have to say it back. But I do,”

Missy seemed to melt against you then. Her hands came up to cup your cheeks, and she kissed you with a renewed hunger, and you clung to her waist, clawed at her blouse, knowing you'd leave wrinkles there that she would tut at later, but not caring. Eventually, you parted, breathless, both with flushed cheeks, and you lost yourself in her pale blue eyes, and knew that she didn’t need to say a thing, saw adoration there that not even the words themselves could beat. But she spoke anyway, her voice thick with sudden emotion.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Then she added, her cockiness returning, “But if you ever tell anyone I’ve gone soft I’ll have to vaporise you. I’ve got a reputation to upkeep,” She smirked and bit the tip of your nose gently, and you laughed at the empty threat. Your Mistress would never hurt you – and Missy herself knew that too, not a single hair on your head could she harm.


End file.
